


Burn

by buckysknifecollection



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 04:27:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20614979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckysknifecollection/pseuds/buckysknifecollection
Summary: Set post-CW, you and Steve are on the run. Steve follows his instincts but it doesn’t go well.





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Ya know when you sleep and you’re in a weird position and lose feeling in your limb? Well that happened to me once and this is the idea my half-sleep brain threw at me. Idk I was just trying something else here.

It’s been weeks, you don’t know how many exactly. Time didn’t exactly matter when you didn’t have a schedule anymore and had nowhere specific to be. Time stopped being important the moment the jet left Wakanda and you were officially cut off from your previous life.

No more meetings, no more briefings, missions, friends, family. All that was left behind. All who was left by your side was Steve Rogers and his two closest friends, who had joined you in your quest to save James Barnes. Now with Bucky safely hidden in Wakanda, under the generous care of King T'Challa and his sister Shuri, all you had to do was run.

Your group was becoming too noticeable, too many recognisable faces, which were constantly shown on the news and in the papers. And so, Sam and Natasha took off, just until the ashes settle down.

You and Steve move from city to city, never spending more than 24 hours in one place. Until one night, while you finish your food with heads bent down in the last booth of a diner by the highway, Steve overhears something worrying.

In the nearby town, there seems to be an enhanced individual, wrecking havoc and terrorizing the locals. You wonder why the authorities haven’t done anything yet, but then again, these were fragile times. Shield has fallen, lots of leaders have been revealed to have ties with Hydra, the Avengers were scattered and the authorities didn’t really know how to deal with any of this.

You look up at Steve, as he gazes out on the dark parking lot, thinking. Every few seconds, he flexes his hand, a nervous tick he’s picked up a few years back. 

“Steve.” You bring his attention back to yourself. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Who else will?” He murmurs. He knows he shouldn’t engage. But he’s _Steve_. He might be a fugitive, considered a criminal now, but his morals haven’t changed. “They’re scared.”

“We don’t know what’s going on, Steve, you’d be going in blind.”

He remains silent. The argument doesn’t really matter, as you both know he’s made his decision already.

“I can’t go with you.”

He looks back to you with sad eyes. He still blames himself for the injuries you’ve sustained the last time you were close to being caught, only a bit over a week earlier. Your wounds haven’t had the chance to heal properly yet. He looks back out the window, his jaw clenched.

You sigh in defeat. “Let’s find somewhere to sleep. My back hurts from that damn car.”

Without a word, he drops a few bills on the table and you leave to the car you’ve hotwired just a couple of hours earlier. On the outskirts of the city, you find an old house, probably your best option. It must have been used by homeless and runaways previously, as there are ragged couches and stained mattresses everywhere. 

The next morning Steve went out to investigate. You knew there was nothing you could do to stop him, so you didn’t even try to talk him out of it. You only hoped that whatever happens and whatever he does, no one will record it and put it online.

When he drops in to leave you some food, he tells you what he found out. Rumor has it, the enhanced person can control fire. Your blood runs cold when you hear it. You remind him he doesn’t have to go, but he does anyway. If there was a chance of people getting hurt, he couldn’t not help.

He doesn’t come back for hours and you fall asleep on one of the couches, cuddled up under his jacket.

_ _ _

It must be after midnight when he comes back. He tries to be quiet, but he can barely hold himself up and the pain is just excruciating. His pained breaths are the only sound down the hall and the uneven heave steps startle you awake. You grab the gun and point it at the door, ready for whoever comes through it.

He pushes the door open and you don’t recognise him at first. He looks nothing like the Steve who left through that same door some hours earlier, save for his dark jeans that were now ripped and dusty.

You slowly lower the gun as you take in the state he’s in. His shirt is torn, shreds hanging from around his neck and shoulders. His arms, all the way from his palms to his shoulders are covered in burns, which spread on his upper chest and neck, even reaching his face where parts of his beard were burned off. Your eyes well up as you realise what’s happened.

“That didn’t go well.” He tries to joke and you really want to shoot him. _How can he joke about this?_

“Steve, my God!” You choke out, put the gun away and run to him. “What the hell happened?!”

“They were angry. I tried to stop them, talk to them, and they used their powers against me.” His voice was like gravel, he barely sounded like himself.

“Fuck, okay, come on.” You wipe the tears that already wet your cheeks and move to spread a sheet on the sofa. You help Steve sit down, and he hisses at every movement. 

“Hey.” He whispers as you pile up some pillows under his arms to keep them elevated. “I’m gonna be okay.”

You look at him and you really want to say you know, you’ve seen his enhanced healing work wonders before, but you’re afraid if you open your mouth, nothing but sobs will come out. You thought he had looked bad after the Winter Soldier almost killed him, but this was so much worse.

You run down to the kitchen, where you saw some old dish cloths and wet them under the tap. You thank any god that might be listening that for some reason, the water hasn’t been cut in the building. Back in the upstairs room, Steve leaned his head on the backrest and is breathing heavily. The tears come back and your heart breaks again at the sight of him.

You clear your throat, mostly to get rid of the sob you so desperately try to keep in, and to let him know you’re back.

“I’m gonna put some wet cloths on you to soothe the pain. We don’t have any medicine left.” You whisper and he hums in agreement. He clenches his jaw, ready for the pain that is about to shoot through his body again.

As gently as possible, you remove the remains of his shirt and drop them on the floor. One by one, the cold wet cloths cover his arms, chest and neck. You don’t even try to hide your crying anymore, the sobs making your chest hurt. Not when each touch causes him even more pain, no matter how gentle you are. When it’s done, you sit back on the floor and try to control your breathing.

“I’m sorry.” He croaks out, barely audible.

“What are you apologising for?” You look up, surprised.

“For going after them. For not being careful.”

“Steve, you did what you thought was the right thing to do. You couldn’t know they would try to roast you.”

“Still.” He tries to shug but the movement tugs at the cloths and he hisses again.

You instinctively reach your hands out but hesitate, not sure what to do to help. He takes a few deep breaths and gives you a small nod that he’s alright.

You stay with him for a few hours, rinsing and re-applying the wet cloths on his wounds a couple times when he gets uncomfortable. You lean your head against the sofa, willing yourself to stay awake with him in case he needs you. With burns like this, there’s not much you can do other than wait for the serum in his blood to work it’s magic, but you want to stay with him, just like you always had.

Just like you did the first night after he was woken up and the realization of what happened broke him. Just like you did during the entire New York disaster. Just like you did when he found you in DC and told you about the Winter Soldier and you joined him and Sam in the search. You’d stuck with him through all the madness throughout the years and so you couldn’t imagine not being by his side when he’s in the worst shape you’d ever seen him.

“Darling.” He speaks up when your head almost falls off the sofa. You sit up straight and rub at your eyes, in hopes of rubbing the exhaustion away.

“Please, go to sleep, baby. I’ll be okay in the morning, you’ll see.” He gives you a soft smile.

“I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.” You huff a laugh. He was always like this.

“Hey. We’re a team, we care for each other, alright? It hurts like hell, but seeing you so sad breaks my heart.” He tries to move his hand to touch you, but you’re too far for him to reach.

“You’re such a sap, you know that, Steve?” You giggle and reach out to softly touch his hand with your fingertips.

His smile only grows at that. “Please, just lay down and sleep.” He insists.

“Fine. Fine, I will.” You stand up to lean over to kiss his forehead and he hums in approval that you finally listened. You fall asleep on the old mattress opposite from him.

_ _ _

It’s late morning when you wake up and Steve is still asleep. You put yourself together, wash away the tear stains from your face and walk over quietly to check on Steve’s wounds. They don’t look that bad anymore when you gently remove the cloths, now dry and slightly stiff. Steve stirrs, but doesn’t wake yet.

You rinse them as well as possible and re-apply them to his wounds. With a sharp inhale he wakes up.

“Did I hurt you?” You ask, worried for him

He takes a second to take in his surroundings and relaxes again. “ ‘S cold.”

“Sorry, Steve.” You sit down next to him once you’re done and just watch him for a moment. “I’m sorry I broke down like that last night.”

He turns his head to look you straight in the eye. “Don’t apologise, darling. You have nothing to apologise for.” He wriggles his fingers towards you, wanting to touch you. You gently hold his hand, not wanting to disturb the still healing skin.

“If anything, I should be apologising.” He speaks after a few thoughtful minutes. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

You only shrug, because, really, you didn’t know what to say. “Are you in pain?”

“Not really. My arms still hurt a bit, but they I should be fine in a couple of days.”

Steve’s face doesn’t look that bad anymore, the burns there weren’t nearly as bad as the ones on his arms. You clean the skin there with a clean cloth, getting the dried blood off.

He closes his eye and breathes slowly, the exhaustion obvious in his every feature. You wonder if he slept at all. When you’re done, you kiss his lips softly, barely touching them. He leans up to kiss you back needily.

“ Thank you for looking after me.” He whispers against your lips.

“We’re a team, we care for each other.” You repeat his words from last night, kiss him once more and when Steve’s hand moves to hold the back of your head to keep you there, you let out a low sigh and let him slide his tongue in your mouth, let him taste you. 

You’re scared to touch him, you don’t want to cause him any more pain. He takes your hand and puts it against his cheek, showing you that it’s okay to touch him there, that it doesn’t hurt. 


End file.
